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A Tale of Many Cities

Updated: Jan 15, 2019

| Author: MaKenzie |


When I first arrive in a new place, my instinct is to compare what I see and experience with other places I’ve traveled to.


The dark stretches of highway from the airport to the rest of Bangalore are the dark, curvy paths I drive to the beach in Oregon. Seen from above as nothing but darkness, wonderment arises as to how civilizations lurk nearby.


The fresh office buildings in the business sector remind me of home in Seattle, especially as we learned that Amazon’s dominant reach expands to India as well. In contrast, crumbling buildings appearing unoccupied, a sight of Bangalore are also a major concern to the seasonally varying economy of Tamarindo.


A rooftop soccer field: the perfect mixture of Playa Maderas’ expatriate aesthetic and my hometown’s indoor soccer arena on a Saturday morning. The beauty of a setting sun is paired with the distinct feeling of astro turf beneath my feet.


Incessant honking: the sound of Bangalore, the sound of Bellefield. The harsh jolt of horns, being used as a greeting or a warning. In India, horns are specially made for the cars sold here. In Jamaica, a red truck trekked up the side of a mountain honking constantly. “He just got his horn replaced and wants to show off” my local friend explained.


Coles Park is Maneadero, Mexico with expansive green space with children playing. Strange unfilled circles and unique exercise-based play structures create a wholesome environment in the middle of a section of roads that take skill, or a lack of fear, to cross.


Drawing connections to other significant environments in my life helps me feel at home in a new place. However the true joy in traveling for me is experiencing new sights and sounds. The slight boat-like sway of a rickshaw is exhilarating with cars so close together that you can touch them without lifting your arm. The texture of South Indian cuisine held on the ends of three fingers, the sweetness of the four scoops of sugar dumped in a small cup of yogurt, and the rhythmic hum of morning prayer are just a few of the sensory intakes in this new location. Bangalore to me is place filled with connections from old homes fighting to become its own feeling of home for the next three months.




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